


Take Me

by StrangeMischief



Category: Doctor Strange (2016), Iron Man (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Cowboys & Cowgirls, Fluff, Humor, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-01
Updated: 2019-04-01
Packaged: 2020-10-26 10:53:38
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 5,562
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20741030
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/StrangeMischief/pseuds/StrangeMischief
Summary: Tony shivered as Stephen’s warm breath ran over his skin. “Take me.”Stephen reared back in shock.





	1. Take Me

**Author's Note:**

> As always, enjoy :3

_ Take Me _

Many of his kind had a great distaste for the dry, searing heat of the West, but Stephen was grateful for it. Too long had he remained huddled in damp, dripping caves of Europe. How he hated the wet spring and summers. How he loathed the freezing autumns and winters. And though he was thankful that, presently, humanity had dismissed shapeshifters and dragons as little more children’s tales, the population surrounding his domain had expanded to the point that there was rarely a moment when a human wasn’t dithering around about a tail’s length from the mouth of his cave.

But here, in the American West, where the land remained virtually untouched. Few humans had left the filth of the cities bordering the eastern coast for the west, and even fewer still dared make the journey into the rugged, arid mountains and canyons that disrupted the otherwise smooth landscape.

\---

Stephen could recall vividly the exact moment he spotted the mountains that would become his home. His human form was growing weak from the taxing journey he’d made, but, with the distance too great to fly, even for the strongest of dragons, leaving little alternative. And so, exhausted and on the verge of hightailing north and settling in the Great White North, Stephen found himself standing, bag in hand, at the last train stop covered by his ticket.

“Welcome to the Territory, mister. The Arizona Territory,” a toothy boy grinned. “For half a penny I’ll shine ya shoes while ya wait for the next train. For a _whole _penny, I’ll run into town and bring ya back drink.”

Stephen hummed non committedly, silver eyes drifting across the landscape before settling on the distant mountains peeking over the horizon. “How about this,” he offered, pulling a handful of coins from his pocket. “Tell me about that mountain, and you can have _three _pennies.”

“Those’re the Superstition Mountains,” the boy quickly explained, fingers twitching as he stared greedily at the shiny coins in Stephen’s palm. “That’s what the townspeople call it. Some people say there’s gold there, but it’s too hard to climb, so no one knows for sure. And even if ya did, ya ain’t never coming back to tell the tale.”

“And why is that?” Stephen asked, trying to conceal his eagerness.

“Somethin’ evil lives there, mister,” the boy huffed as if Stephen was dim for not knowing so. “Now, are ya goin’ to give me my pennies now or not?”

\---

Stephen spent little time scouting out a cave in the mountains to call his own, grateful to have a place where he could shift back into his true form and stretch his aching limbs. As he lazed in the delightful desert heat, he contemplated his next move.

Humans were gullible creatures and were likely to be lured into a sense of distrust and panic if the proper method was used. Luckily, in this case, the foundation was already there. A treacherous mountain. A _superstitious _mountain. A place where wanderers disappeared, never to be seen again. It was would be perfect. It would be _easy._

\---

“You live near the mountains? There’s gold up there,” the tanner informed Stephen as he finished the final stitches on the pair of leather boots. “The _devil _lives up there!” his wife hissed, dropping Stephen’s change in his waiting palm. The tanner scoffed and opened his mouth to retort, but Stephen beat him to it.

“You’ve seen the smoke that drifts out, no doubt?” he asked smoothly. At their nod, he continued. “Always seems to happen when the moon is full…or is it during the crescent?” The tanner paled, and Stephen grinned widely. “Ah, perhaps it’s best to avoid the mountains all together? No good seems to come from there, after all.”

“Too right you are, sir,” the tanner agreed quickly, exchanging an anxious glance with his wife. “Too right you are.”

\---

“I heard that any man who tries to climb it will die a mysterious death,” laughed the tailor, his measuring tape pulled taunt against Stephen’s waist. “No ones tried, of course, but the story’s enough to keep the little ones in line.”

“There’s certainly _something _there,” Stephen sighed, holding his arms steady as the tailor’s apprentice pinned fabric around his wrists. “Cattle disappear like footprints in the sand out there.” The apprentice flinched, apologizing when he jabbed Stephen with a pin with the movement. “Whatever it is,” Stephen continued, “it must be _massive _to be consuming so much and so many at a time.”

The tailor chuckled worriedly and loosened his collar. “Good thing we stick to town then, ain’t that right, Patrick?”

The apprentice, pale as the crisp white fabric in his hands, nodded quickly.

\---

“And what is it that you do, living so near the mountains, sir?” asked the baker’s wife suspiciously, handing Stephen a loaf of rock-like bread. “Nobody bothers with them since the beast has takin’ up livin’ in there except them wild cowmen. And _you, _sir, ain’t no cowman.”

“Indeed, I’m not,” Stephen laughed, grinning winningly. The baker’s wife smiled back sheepishly, disarmed by his teeth flashing in the sunlight. Seeing his opportunity, Stephen lunged…so to say. “There are disadvantages to being near the mountain, and whatever beast it is that lurks there.” he admitted, cleverly sidestepping her question. “But I do enjoy the view.”

Stephen dropped the bread into his cloth bag and tipped his head kindly, “Stay safe, ma’am.”

“And you, sir,” she replied absently, her terrified gaze fixed on the rust-colored peaks of the outlying mountains.

\---

The nearby humans were soon deathly afraid of the Superstition Mountains and the demonic monster from hell that apparently resided there. The temptation of gold was great, but the fear of the unknown was greater.

With such terror evident in each human, he came to cross in the weeks following his arrival, Stephen grew confident none would take the risk and tread near his domain. In the cloak of darkness, he could stretch his wings, snag unsuspecting cattle from their herds, or collect gold from the abandoned mines. In the warm light of day, he could stretch in the mouth of his cave, unworried about being stumbled upon. No, Stephen never expected to have to worry about a human stumbling across his home, and, perhaps, that’s exactly why one was able to so easily.

\---

“You’re real!”

Stephen jerked upright, his midday doze rudely interrupted by the unexpected sound. He lurched to his feet, the tips of his curved horns raking across the roof of his cave in his rush, sending a fine stream of dust and dirt pouring from the ceiling.

There was a human, a male one, standing at the base of Stephen’s tail, a calloused hand trembling fearfully over the maroon scales as he tried to find the courage to run his hand over them.

That would not do.

Stephen snaked his tail behind the human, barricading the entryway and swooped his head in closer for a better look at the creature. He was tan, much like the humans Stephen knew to linger in the Mediterranean, and most of his visible skin was, interestingly enough, covered in fresh bruises and minor cuts. His clothing – leather boots, canvas pants, a rugged blue button down, and a battered wide-brimmed hat – however, were clearly more accustomed to the desert of the Territory than the humid seaside.

“Real I am,” Stephen rumbled ominously, deliberately blowing a jet of warm steam into the man that whisked his head, revealing messy brunet hair. He lowered his head until he could see the human eye to eye, fixing it with a passive gaze. “And who might you be?”

The brunet picked his hat up from the ground and dropped it back down on his head with a huff of agitation before raising his head to stare pointedly back at Stephen. “I’m Tony Stark,” he replied confidently, topaz eyes never drifting from Stephen’s silver as he raised his chin sharply and subtly widened his stance. “Who’re you?”

Stephen snorted humorously at the attempt of a human – one who, from the looks of it, recently lost a fight – to assert dominance over him. “I am Stephen. What business have you here, Tony Stark?”

“You’re a dragon,” Tony replied, eyes darting over Stephen’s shoulder to glance at the glimmer of gold that shone against the cave walls. “The collectin’ kind.”

“How observant of you,” Stephen remarked sourly. “Allow me to make this simple for you,” he huffed, leaning in until his snout was nearly brushing against the human’s nose. “_What do you want_?”

Tony shivered as Stephen’s warm breath ran over his skin. “Take me.”

Stephen reared back in shock.

_“What?”_

“Take me,” Tony begged, clutching his hat to his chest. “As a prisoner. As a pet. Hell, even as a snack if you gotta. I don’t care. It’ll be better than what I’ll be headin’ back to. Just, please, take me.”

Stephen huffed at the foolish request and swept Tony back towards the mouth of the cave with his tail. “No.”

“Wait!” Tony began frantically, struggling against the weight of Stephen’s tail. “You don’t understand. There’s-”

“I have no wish to meddle in your human affairs,” Stephen interrupted coolly, blowing enough smoke behind Tony that it would deter him from reentering for at least several hours. “Leave here and do not return. And know this, human; if others find their way here, I will come looking for _you _first_._”

\---

Tony returned the next day with a steer.

“I can bring you food,” he offered, trying to strike a deal. “Whatever you’re hankerin’ for. Well, not _anythin’ _but anythin’ that comes into town.”

Stephen used his snout to nudge the steer away with a gentle shove, ignoring Tony’s dismayed gasp as the animal horridly ran from the cave. “I have no need for you to fetch anything for me,” he hissed. He reached back with a taloned claw and scooped up a sizable gold nugget and tossed it at Tony’s feet. “Take this and _go_.”

Tony picked up the nugget and stared at it in confusion. “But I don’t need-”

“Leave!” Stephen growled, shoving Tony out of the mouth.

\---

Nearly a week passed, and Stephen thought that, with a bit of gold in his hand, the human would finally let him know peace. But, alas, this one was proving to be increasingly difficult.

Stephen had been dozing lightly in last of the day’s light when Tony entered the cave, proudly declaring, “I can make you things.” He walked straight up to stand where Stephen was resting his head on his front legs and hoisted the strap of a tattered satchel over his neck. “Anythin’ you want, but _especially _from all that gold ya got.”

Stephen sighed and arched his back, rumbling contently when the curve of his spine cracked at the movement. As distasteful as it’d be, he’d eat the pesky human, and then he’d go out and stretch his wings before making a stop in the town. If he’d remembered correctly new goods from the East would be delivered in the morning, and he intended to scoop up what he wanted before it was snatched up by all the townsfolk. “Human,” he began, exasperated, “I have twice already let you leave unscathed and since you clearly have no regard for your life I-”

Tony hoisted the item he’d been carrying out of his bag, and Stephen’s words died on his tongue.

It was a gold egg, nearly large enough Tony needed two hands to hold it. But rather than a smooth, shimmering gold shell, elegant etchings fashioned similar to lace had been carved onto the surface. “I took the nugget you gave me to make it,” Tony explained, a proud smile tugging on the corners of his mouth as he turned the egg for Stephen to view. “It took a bit longer without my tools, but I was able to make do with what I could find around the mountain.”

Stephen tilted his head, eyes darting between Tony and the egg. “You made this? Yourself? Using only what you could find on the mountain?”

“I’m good with my hands,” Tony shrugged. “I could make you more, or whatever else you’d like…if you let me stay. I figure it’d be hard for you since you’re…” Tony gestured vaguely at Stephen’s large form, “…like that.”

Stephen scoffed, amused by Tony’s misunderstanding of his kind, but chose not to correct him on it. “What do you seek refuge from, human?” Stephen asked, carefully taking the egg and inspecting it closely.

“There’s this bastard Thanos,” Tony huffed irritably, eyes narrowing in anger when he mentioned the name. “Rode straight out of the Devil’s ass, that one. Him and his gutless posse travel ‘round burnin down whole towns, takin’ the gold an’ women.”

“You object to this,” Stephen supplied smoothly, setting the egg down gently next to his pile of gold. He turned back to Tony, eyeing his yellowing bruises critically. “Is this why they beat you?”

“Mighta contributed to the reason,” Tony replied evasively, shuffling his foot against the sandy cave floor.

Stephen snorted skeptically, eyes narrowing in disbelief at Tony. The man in question flushed under Stephen’s intense gaze, eyes snapping away to stare off to the side. “It’s possible I killed a few of his men,” Tony relented. “And then…” his lip twisted into a crooked smirk. “I mighta said something unchristian like about his mama.”

Stephen chuckled deeply. “Do tell,” he snickered, pulling his tail in closer, so Tony had more space to sprawl across the floor. “I should like to know what sort of deviant I’m harboring.”

\---

Minding a human was not quite as tiresome as Stephen had imagined it would be. Tony slept soundly through the nights, never so much as rustling when Stephen swept from the den for his nightly flights or to scavenge for food and gold. When Stephen woke in the late morning hours Tony had either gone off with his stallion to explore the mountainside or was seated in the corner on his pile of quilts and woven mats, chipping away at gold nuggets, refusing to let Stephen peek at what he was creating.

But there was also far more _talking _than Stephen had anticipated. It was an error on his part, having forgotten how social humans tended to be, but it was still no less frustrating how _much _Tony would talk.

Especially during the dinner hour.

“What’re you doin’ here?” Tony asked one night, as he polished his newest gold creation, a dragon with some semblance to Stephen.

Stephen cracked open a lazy eye and peered at Tony through the small fire he had built in the cave’s corner. “Hmm?”

“Well dragons always live in castles an’ steal fancy French princesses, don’t they?” Tony explained. “Just like in the stories. Not many of those things ‘round here.”

“You haven’t been outside the Territory, have you?” Stephen asked, not surprised when Tony shook his head no. “It’s crowded. Loud. Especially where I come from. There’s nowhere safe to roam without humans underfoot anymore,” he lamented, eyes glazing over in thought. “Nowhere where the sounds of them shuffling about their day doesn’t echo through your den.” He focused back on Tony, who was listening with rapt attention. “We came the same reason many of you humans came West, I imagine,” Stephen replied thoughtfully. “Space. Peace. A certain amount of freedom.”

Tony arched a brow and tilted his head towards the back of the cave were Stephen stowed the gold nuggets and Tony’s carvings. “Not gold?”

Stephen snorted. “I can admit it may have played a hand in my decision.”

Tony laughed loudly, and Stephen couldn’t help but chuckle along, finding himself oddly charmed with the sound.

\---

It had been a few weeks since Tony had taken up living in Stephen’s cave, and the food Stephen had purchased from town were running thin. Alone, Stephen would have simply stolen a cow or two and eaten them to make up for the lack of finer foods such as fruits and vegetables that had to be shipped to the Territory from elsewhere. But he doubted Tony could live such a way without getting sick in short order.

Stephen glanced briefly at Tony’s slumbering form, cast in the glow of the dying fire, and nearly concealed beneath the mountain of blankets he was buried under. Despite the heat and warm covers, Tony was still visibly shivering in his sleep. It seemed the winter nights were crueler on human skin, even in the desert, than Stephen thought.

Quietly, as to not disturb Tony’s slumber, Stephen moved aside his hoard to retrieve the bundle of clothing and cloth bags he kept for his runs to town. Items held securely in his jaw, Stephen slipped out of the cave and bolted upward into the night sky. He’d fly to the edge of town before transforming – there was no use in wasting all the energy to _walk _there. Perhaps there would be a new shipment of those overly sweet apples Tony was so fond of, and, hopefully, some winter coats.

\---

“Did you steal these from town?” Tony asked, pulling his new coat on and rolling his shoulders experimentally. “Not that I’m above thievin’, but you needn’t have bothered, Stephen.”

“I did _not _steal them,” Stephen huffed, slightly wounded by the accusation. “I have all this gold,” he flicked his tail at the pile behind him, “and you can’t possibly go through it all yourself. Why would I steal something I can purchase myself?”

“I’m not tryin’ to insult your sensibilities,” Tony laughed, grabbing an apple and biting into it cheerfully. “I just can’t picture any of those merchants down there giving a _dragon _a handful of apples, gold nugget or not.”

Stephen rumbled in good humor, eyes twinkling mischievously. “They didn’t.”

“What’re you talkin’ about?” Tony asked, arching a brow. “How else are you goin’ to get ‘em?”

Stephen snorted and pushed up, so he sat on his haunches. “You humans are often correct about many things in your stories about us,” he explained, his voice already losing some of its gritty quality as his bones creaked and shrank in size. “But somehow you all omit the thing that made it so easy to get close to you.”

Tony backed up against the wall, eyes blown wide with shock as Stephen’s skin rippled and his body shrunk in size until a tall, pale man stood before him.

“Jesus Christ,” Tony gasped, eyes drifting from his silver-streaked raven hair to his wide shoulders and continuing down. “I can’t fuckin’ believe that…” Tony’s jaw slacked, and he squawked another tight, “Jesus _fucking H _Christ,” before hurling a woven blanket at Stephen. “Wrap that around your waist! _God, _Stephen.”

Stephen laughed, unperturbed by his own nakedness, but did as Tony asked. “You _asked._”

“Yes, well,” Tony sighed walking closer now that not quite as much of Stephen was on display. “I didn’t expect to see you…shrink down into a person! I’d never imagine that it was somethin’ you could do,” he confessed, eyes again running across Stephen’s human form. “Can you all do this? Is it hard?”

Tony fingers twitched as if he were restraining himself from reaching out and touching Stephen’s skin, so Stephen simply took his hand and held it in his own, ignoring Tony’s quiet intake of breath. “Anyone can shift with only slight effort” he confirmed, “but few choose to. It can be…uncomfortable how vulnerable to attack it leaves you feeling.”

“And do you all look like this?” Tony asked, his free hand running across Stephen’s sharp cheekbones. “So…perfect?”

Stephen’s lips quirked at the phrasing. “I hadn’t thought about it, truthfully. I shift more out of convivence than to actually interact with humans as others might. I haven’t seen anyone else shift except an acquaintance from long ago; Christine. She was pretty by human standards, I would say. Especially given the way people stared.”

Tony nodded and opened his mouth before shutting it quickly, his topaz eyes flickering with conflict. “Would you be able to be like this more often?” he asked hesitantly, seeming unsure if it were an appropriate request. “Not because I don’t like you as yourself!” he added hurriedly, “But-”

“It’s more familiar? Less daunting?” Stephen supplied before Tony could finish, pleased when relief washed over Tony’s face.

“Yes,” he sighed, hand dropping from Stephen’s cheek. “Exactly that.”

“If it would please you,” Stephen shrugged, “I have no qualms remaining this way during the day. But,” Stephen warned drawing near to whisper directly into Tony’s ear, “don’t think I couldn’t throw you across this cave if you so much as _thought _about taking advantage of me in this form.”

Tony shivered, and his pupils were blown wide when Stephen pulled back. “I wouldn’t dream of takin’ advantage of you, Stephen,” he mumbled thickly. “But thanks for the warning.”

\---

Tony would work on one of his projects in the evenings, as was usual, aside the fact that Stephen now took up stretching out on one of Tony’s many woven mats in front of the fire to watch the man work. It was a thrilling change, to be compact enough that he could silently hover a hair’s length away from Tony and watch his lithe fingers dance across the gold’s surface.

As a human, and therefore a creature of habit, however, Tony had no patience for Stephen’s soundless observance, and would fire question after question until the fire grew dim and his eyes drooped with sleep.

It was surprisingly, not as irritating to Stephen to have to interact with Tony so much during the day as he thought. And soon, he found himself spending his nights distracted from his gathering, as thoughts of Tony and what curiosities might spill from his eager lips the following morning plagues his thoughts.

\---

“Do dragons come from eggs?” Tony asked curiously, hands pausing over his latest work. It was another egg, though considerably smaller, and with highly detailed forestry being etched into the sides. “You’ve talked about where _you've_ come from, of course” he elaborated, looking up to where Stephen sat cross-legged, his own gaze already trained on Tony’s face. “But you’ve never said where your _kind_ come from.”

“We hatch from eggs, yes,” Stephen confirmed smoothly, resting his head on his chin. “Hatching is one of the few times we are near another of our kind. Shortly after, we separate from our siblings and will remain alone thereafter.” A thought blazed across his mind, and Stephen looked at Tony with newfound curiosity, asking before he could help himself, “And you? Humans congregate most of their lives. Do you not have family missing you in your absence?”

Tony frowned and shook his head, turning back to his work. “No one’s goin’ be missing me, least of all a family,” he shrugged dismissively, not daring to look Stephen in the eye. “I was a guttersnipe since I was a boy. From when I was…ten or so I’d say? Who knows, really? It’s been so long since I was that young.”

“A guttersnipe,” Stephen asked, brows furrowed in confusion. “I am unfamiliar with the term.”

“A street kid,” Tony elaborated, voice tight. “Orphaned. Homeless. There were a lot after the war and then…it just stayed that way. Kids runnin’ ‘round that ain’t got no one left to miss or care for them…to worry that their missin’, or starvin’, or hurtin’, or _dead_.”

Stephen frowned. “I’d miss you. I’d worry.” Tony glanced up, and Stephen shifted closer, so their knees brushed and gripped one of Tony’s hands with his own. “I’d care if you were starving or hurting.”

“Not if I died?” Tony asked, a hint of teasing slipping into his tone.

“I would never let you die,” Stephen replied roughly, his grip on Tony tightening as hot panic flared up in his chest at the thought. “I would never let anyone or anything take you.”

\---

The night air was crisper which meant that not only had more time passed since the last town visit than Stephen had planned on letting slip by but that the arriving shipments would shrink in size as the East was blanketed in heavy snow. It was time to go and fetch a large haul before the prices of simple goods tripled in price.

Stephen was already halfway to the mouth of the cave, his shirt peeled off and bundled up in his cloth bag when Tony’s voice broke the silence.

“Are you going to town again?” Tony yawned, rolling his shoulders as he sat up and stretched. “You should let me go,” he offered, boots already pulled on. He twisted around, searching for his hat as he continued, “You’ve gone plenty enough. All I do is sit aroun’ and play with your things.”

Stephen hesitated, something deep within him itching at not only at the thought of Tony leaving the den, but at Tony leaving the den _alone _to go somewhere where _others _were. He felt the overwhelming urge to keep Tony concealed in the confines of the cave, where he knew the man would be safe and out of reach of anyone who wished to harm him.

Anyone who wished to _have _him.

“I can take the horse,” Tony pushed, sensing Stephen’s hesitancy. “I can bring more back with JARVIS than you could alone. No one would question me loadin’ up the horse but it might look strange if you leave town with armloads of food.”

Stephen hummed thoughtfully as his mind raced to think of an excuse he could give that would keep the man in safe confines of the cave. But, Tony was, as much as it displeased him to admit it., right “Very well,” he agreed, holding the bag out to Tony. “Just...be careful.”

Tony beamed, taking the bags from Stephen. “Only if you put your shirt back on,” he laughed, cheeks flushed a rosey pink as he glanced briefly at Stephen’s bare torso. “You’re makin’ me cold just lookin’ at you.”

\---

Tony ran his fingers lazily over the neat tower of crisp apples that were just brought in, his mouth already watering at the idea of sinking his teeth into their skin and letting their sweet juices fill his mouth. But…Tony’s eyes drifted to the neighboring display. Pears, brightly colored and so perfectly ripe Tony was practically consumed in their scent were stacked neatly, begging to be eaten.

Tony’s dark eyes drifted back to the apples longingly. He loved apples. His gaze floated back to the gleaming pile of fruit nearby.

Stephen loved pears.

Tony shook his head and fished a handful of coins out of his pocket and dropped them on the table next to the pears. He nodded politely to the vendor, offering a soft, “Ma’am,” before reaching to grab a handful to drop into his satchel.

“Stark!” a thundering voice roared.

_Thanos._

A _crack! _rang sharply through the air, the sound so loud Tony could feel tearing through his chest. Children screamed and ran for their mother’s skirts. Men whipped guns from their holsters. Everyone dove behind carts or barrels or ran for shelter in a nearby building.

The pears fell from Tony’s hands and rolled across the sand, leaving sticky crimson trails in their wake.

Tony could still feel the sound tearing through his chest.

\---

Stephen’s world exploded into pure torture. Sharp, searing heat shot through his chest. Roaring pain exploded in his chest with such power he though his heart would cease its steady rhythm in response to the agony. Fire tore down every nerve in his body, and his veins screamed as his blood suddenly felt as if it were boiling him from the inside.

His human form shredded as scales, talons, and horns ripped through pale, alabaster skin. His tail swung wildly around the cave as he bellowed out in rage, sending gold and trinkets soaring across the cave and slamming into the wall. It felt as if the whole world was crumbling down around him slowly, yet all at once.

And it might as well have been because he could _feel _it.

Stephen could feel the pain as well as if it were his own and knew what it was instantly, sure as he was of his own name.

Someone had hurt Tony.

Someone had _dared _hurt Tony. _His _Tony.

Feral possessiveness ran rampant through Stephen’s veins, and he forgot anything about secrecy and protecting the cave’s location as he darted from the cave, his vision tunneling in on the distant speck that was the town.

\---

Tony saw nothing but blue. Calming sky blue, unobstructed by a single pearly white cloud. It was a lovely image that he would have appreciated more if it weren’t so difficult to breathe. His chest felt as if it were made of lead. Sticky, hot lead that slowly expanded from his chest, trickling across his shoulders and down his abdomen.

People were screaming in the background, and something that sounded like a blend of a lion’s roar and the screech of a train’s brakes echoed through the air. The ground shook, and bodies flew across Tony’s line of sight, sprays of blood and tissue spewing in their wake. Searing heat licked Tony’s skin, and the air was thick with smoke that burned his eyes and airways.

Vaguely, Tony registered that this was _wrong. _Thanos had fired a single shot, and none of these were things that should be happening after that. But he was, truthfully, too preoccupied with other thoughts to dedicate any real care to it. He wanted the pain to stop. He wanted that god-awful screeching to stop. He wanted to be able to breathe freely.

He wanted Stephen and half a dozen fresh pears.

The screeching, mercifully came to an end and Tony felt an inkling of hope that this meant Thanos and his gang had left, but then a figure, shadowed by the sun shining behind them leant over him, blocking the clear desert sky from sight. Tony flinched, anticipating Thanos to slam his shoe down on his face before firing a bullet right between his eyes.

But the blow never came. It wasn’t Thanos. It couldn’t be — not this person, who was tall and pale with shockingly dark hair and…and entirely _naked. _

“Stephen?” Tony croaked, blood dribbling past his trembling lips. “Is that you? You came?”

Stephen grunted, unable to form a coherent response as he crouched over Tony’s fallen form, an untamed shadow of chaos darkening his features. His slim fingers brushed against the curve of Tony’s jawline tenderly, a look of adoration flashing through his eyes before the crazed, desperation overtook him again. Stephen pushed Tony’s head to the side carefully, and pushed his collar back, exposing his tanned neck.

“Stephen?” Tony tried again, wincing as Stephen planted his hands on his shoulders and leant in closer, brushing his nose along Tony’s jaw. “What’re you tryin’ to d-”

“No one’s going to take you, Tony,” Stephen crooned, his tongue swirling across the length of Tony’s neck. “No one’s going to take you because you’re _mine,_” he hissed in a gravelly voice, giving no warning before sinking his teeth into Tony’s warm throat.

Tony gasped at the sharp pain, arching against Stephen’s hands as he hummed contently against Tony’s skin.

“I’m sorry,” Stephen mumbled, pulling away from Tony’s neck after licking one last west stripe across Tony’s skin. His voice was less rugged, his silver eyes less clouded. “It hurts, I know. I’m sorry.” With one arm curling behind Tony’s knees and the other wrapped around his shoulders, Stephen lifted him from the ground, drawing him close enough into his chest that he could rest his chin on Tony’s head. “All will be well. We’ll get that out of your chest once we get back, and then all will be well.”

“Back to the cave? You’re still going to take me?” Tony groaned, his jumbled mind dancing with images of cattle and fine golden eggs.

Stephen's lips twitched into a smirk, and he pressed his lips softly to Tony’s hair. “Oh, yes, Tony. I will.”


	2. Epilogue

_ Epilogue _

“No sir, Mister Stark, there’s nothing on this side of the Mississippi that would get me to go up ol’ Rainer,” the butcher shuddered, glancing out the window at the mountain in question. “Some New York man came out once and said it was a volcano, but we all know what’s what around here.”

Tony tilted his head thoughtfully, eyes sparkling as the butcher spoke. “Oh, I agree, Mister Carson. There’s more than a volcano at play here. Why, I’ve been here but two days and I’ve already got into a tussle with the beast.”

The butcher drew in a sharp breath, looking up from his work to stare at Tony. “You ran into-” he cut off suddenly, eyes zeroing in on the twin crescents marring Tony’s exposed throat. “Did it…” the butcher gestured vaguely at his own neck, “did it…?”

Tony grinned, eyes flickering to the doorframe of the back room, where two young girls were listening with rapt attention. “I won’t give you too many details,” Tony sighed, tucking his purchased meat under his arm, “but I will say that the son of a bitch held me down and gave it to me real good.”


End file.
